Two Beds and a Coffee Machine
by Nicky2
Summary: A deep, semi-dark Savage Garden musicfic about the intoxication of the darkside, and the effect it can have on people you never meant to hurt.


Summary: A deep, semi-dark Savage Garden musicfic about the intoxication of the dark side, and the effect it can have on people you never meant to hurt.  
  
Title: Two Beds and a Coffee Machine  
Author: Tyger  
Author E-mail: amidalakenobi@hotmail.com  
Rating: PG for references to violence and death  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the excerpts, scenes, planets, or characters mentioned in this fanfic. Everything in here belongs to George Lucas, director extraordinare, and/or Savage Garden, and we all know how amazing they are! (I myself am obsessed to the point where I figured this entire song out on the piano, accompaniment and everything.)  
  
Author's Note: The song lyrics used herein belong to "Two Beds and a Coffee Machine," on Savage Garden's second CD, "Affirmation." Dedicated to Darren and Daniel of Savage Garden: not only because they are (dare I even say it) poets, but because Darren, at least, is a major Star Wars fan!  
  
*...* signifies italics or thoughts.  
  
  
  
  
Two Beds and a Coffee Machine  
By Tyger  
  
And she takes another step  
Slowly she opens the door  
Check that he is sleeping  
Pick up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor  
Been up half the night screaming now it's time to get away  
Pack up the kids in the car  
Another bruise to try and hide  
Another alibi to write  
  
Another ditch in the road  
You keep moving  
Another stop sign  
You keep moving on  
And the years go by so fast  
Wonder how I ever made it through...  
  
It was a three-hour hyperspace hop from Naboo to Corellia, but it didn't matter; it wasn't like there were any other options. She had picked up Anakin's training lightsaber and a diaper bag for the kids on the way out the door. She grabbed a Jedi robe of Anakin's at the last moment, in case it was raining when she got there. She hadn't had time to get anything else.  
The rented speeder cruised along the deserted country streets. Corellian jewel-bats were diving through the air, bright flashes of gold and green against the midnight sky. If she had been younger, or less preoccupied, she would have been fascinated. But now she ignored them out of necessity, concentrating only on the road ahead of her and the imaginary light at its end.  
  
And there are children to think of  
Babies asleep in the backseat  
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare  
But the mind is an amazing thing  
Full of candy, dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel  
Two beds and a coffee machine  
But there are groceries to buy  
And she knows she'll have to go home...  
  
She pulled up in front of a tiny house, no bigger than an average apartment. Another speeder sat in the driveway: he was home. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it faded quickly with her worries. She thought she remembered two bedrooms; if she was wrong, things were going to get awkward.  
She shut the engine down and turned off the headlights, wavering for a moment over what to do with the twins. They were so far out in the country...they'd be all right for a few minutes, at least.  
It was drizzling, the brilliant stars dimmed by a sheer curtain of cloud. She pulled the hood over her head, thankful she had brought the cloak. She did it as much to hide her face as to keep dry. Gathering her courage, she knocked on the front door.  
There was no answer for several minutes, and she realized just how early it was here. He'd surely still be asleep. She knocked a little harder, hoping desperately to raise him. "Please, Obi-Wan," she whispered. If he didn't show   
up soon, she was going to have a breakdown, right here on the front steps. "Please hurry."  
A few seconds later the door opened a crack.  
"Oh, thank gods," she murmured.  
He let the door swing out all the way, so he could see his visitor and she him.  
He was fully dressed but barefoot; no wonder it had taken him awhile. She almost dissolved into grateful tears at the sight of him, but she held herself back in a sudden burst of will.  
"Amidala? It's the middle of the night; what are you doing here? Where's Anakin? And the kids? What -" He broke off abruptly. Her eyes shone in the dim light, two bright pinpricks in a shadowed face. "You'd better come in," he  
offered, turning aside to let her through.  
She sat lightly on the couch, not bothering to pull her hood back. If he was surprised to see her in one of Anakin's robes, wearing her husband's old lightsaber, he didn't show it.   
"What's wrong? I know it's got to be something big for you to come all the way out here with no warning and in the middle of the night. What is it?"  
She found that she couldn't speak for the tightness in her throat, but he could read the general direction of her thoughts, even if her mind was too well protected for him to actually *know.* He reached for her hood, to push it back, but she jerked away. "Highness," he reproved softly. He touched the hood again, and this time she let him.  
He pushed the hood away from her pale face and brushed her hair back, revealing an angry violet bruise on her cheekbone.  
He exhaled between clenched teeth; a sound of pain, anger, and sympathy all at once. His cool fingers brushed it tenderly, and he knew it hadn't been an accident. "Who?" he asked, and his voice was low and stony.  
She looked up at him expressionlessly. "I think you know."  
"Not Ani," he protested vehemently. "He would *never* do that. Never."  
She just looked at him, a single solemn glance that spoke volumes.  
"Anakin," he reiterated desperately, still not willing to believe her. "That little kid we pulled off of Tatooine. The boy who's always adored you - don't even try to deny it. You're telling me that Anakin - your own *husband* - did this to you."  
"Yes."  
He inhaled deeply and leaned his head back against the chair, eyes closed. "Was he drunk?"  
"Drunk with power."  
"Amidala, I can't believe he'd..."  
"Go ahead," she challenged. "Search my thoughts if you want to. But you already know it was him, and you already know he used the Dark Side to do it."  
He couldn't honestly believe that just yet, but he filed the information away to think about later. "Did you bring the kids with you?"  
"Do I look stupid? I am not about to leave a couple of toddlers there with that maniac- sorry."  
"Where are they?"  
"In the speeder, asleep. It's a little rude to knock on the door with two kids in your arms and ask for a place to stay."  
"Bring them in; we'll figure something out."  
She returned a few seconds later, laying the still sleeping twins down on the couch next to her. "There *are* two bedrooms, right?"  
"Not exactly. But we can manage."  
She shook her head. "No. I don't need to give Anakin any other reasons to be angry with me. He already thinks you and I..."  
"He thinks what?"  
"He thinks that we're...slightly more than just friends."  
"Was that why he hit you?" he asked softly.  
"Yes."  
He didn't say anything, just shook his head and stared off into space with a rueful expression on his face. Like it was *his* fault more than Anakin's.  
"I can sleep on the floor in here," she offered simply.  
"That's hardly something a good host would let his guest do," he admonished mockingly. "I'll sleep in here. Bedroom's the first door to the left, and the 'fresher's at the end of the hall."  
She picked up the twins and smiled wanly. "Thank you. You're the only person left that I can really trust." She hesitated, as though she wanted to say more, but left it at that as she walked down the hall.  
He watched her retreating form, wondering where in the hells he'd gone wrong with his student. An uncomfortable feeling pricked at the back of his mind; indeed, it seemed to be guilty regret. He had considered falling in love with Amidala (considered--like love was a conscious effort), and if he had, perhaps this never would have happened.  
But regrets were useless at this point; it was too late. He pulled a blanket out of the hall closet. He paused and figured that appearing in one's boxers in front of a guest lacked the proper dignity, so he just pulled off his tunic, threw it over the back of a chair, and fell asleep.  
  
Amidala, however, had considerably more trouble sleeping. She went over the situation in her mind, again and again until it didn't seem to be happening to her at all; like a holo she was watching, not really involved in. She looked over at the twins next to her, sleeping so peacefully on the other pillow of the double bed.  
What kind of future would await them? Would they be safe from their own father? The idea of Anakin harming his own children tore her apart.  
*They couldn't stay with her.* She recoiled at the thought, but she knew it was true. As long as Anakin was after her, the children wouldn't be safe.  
She looked at Leia, stroking her cheek gently. The baby opened her eyes, and the look on Amidala's face, the mixture of love and infinite sorrow, was imprinted into that tiny mind forever.  
Her decision made, her heart finally at rest, Amidala drifted off peacefully.  
  
"Do you know what you're going to do yet?"  
She willed her voice not to tremble. "Yes."  
"And that is...?"  
"You have a brother on Tatooine, right? And you know Bail Organa."  
He nodded, unsure of where she was going with this.  
"Then you must take Luke and Leia there. Split them up; they'll be safer that way. I can't keep them with me."  
"What in the hells...Amidala, what are you going to *do?*"  
"I'm going to confront Anakin."  
"Are you crazy? He'll kill you!"  
"To answer the first question: probably. To the second part: I have no other options."  
"Highness," he pleaded, knowing it was useless. "There are other ways, *safer* ways to do this. Divorce him, have him arrested or thrown out of the Palace. He *abused* you, for skies' sake!"  
"Do you think any of that will stop him? I have to go back; if he offers me the chance to forgive him, then I will, whole-heartedly. It's the only way."  
"And if he's still angry?"  
"Then I'll ask him to forgive me."  
"But you haven't done anything!"  
Her eyes narrowed in determination. "If it will calm him down and get us back together, you can damn well bet I'll do whatever it takes. I still love him. I want the twins to know their father as I did, not as what he's likely to become if something isn't done."  
He stepped closer, held her shoulders. "Are you absolutely sure it's the only way?"  
"Yes."  
"But the children..."  
"They'll be taken care of for awhile; I should be coming back soon. If I don't..."  
"They'd never know their mother."  
She gave him a pained look. "If I...if I don't come back, Obi-Wan - and it's a possibility I won't - will you tell them? For me?"  
He nodded, then embraced her. She knew she couldn't cry now, she needed to save her strength; even so, a few tears dropped off her cheek to splash onto his tunic. She fumbled for the lightsaber. "Give this to Luke, would you? If I don't make it back? I want him to have something of his father's...and of mine, if..."  
He held her for just a moment. "You know I always loved you."  
She stepped back. "Did you?"  
He nodded. "If I'd asked you to marry me, none of this ever would have happened."  
"You know it isn't your fault." She smiled sadly. "If you had asked, I'd have said yes." She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and he knew that whatever might happen later, they had parted as friends.  
His fingers gently brushed her still-bruised cheek. "May the Force be with you."  
Amidala kissed the children, then turned and walked away into the Corellian morning.   
He knew she wouldn't be back.  
  
Another bruise to try and hide  
Another alibi to write  
Another lonely highway in the black of night  
But there's hope in the darkness, you know you're going to make it...  
  
Another ditch in the road  
Keep moving  
Another stop sign  
You keep moving on  
And the years go by so fast  
Silent fortress built to last  
Wonder how I ever made it...  
  
  
  
  
  
Praise, chocolate, and tickets to Cincinnati Savage Garden concerts can be sent to me. Flames can go directly to Hell (Devil666@Lucifer.com), as that's where I'll probably be spending my eternal-life sentence for character mutilation. General comments can go in the review section. I love feedback!  



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